Broken
by Creative Touch
Summary: Sequel to "Filling in the Gap". Hermione and Fred are expecting their first born but things go horribly wrong when fathers are questioned and ex's return. When their lives and sanity are at stakes, they question whether love can really conquer all. Can their relationship survive the barriers ahead? Read and review :)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I would have saved Fred if I had written HP

**Summary: **Sequel to _Filling in the Gap_, Hermione and Fred are expecting their first child but things go horribly wrong and their lives and sanity are threatened. Can their relationship survive the barriers ahead?

**A/N: **I'm baaackkk! The continuance of the adventures of Hermione and Fred from _Filling in the Gap_ starts here! I hope everyone enjoys it!

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**X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X **

**B.R.O.K.E.N**

**Chapter One**

**X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X **

He watched her.

She was unaware that someone was watching her, like some sort of stalker. There's that harsh word again, _stalker. _But she was his wife, and he, her husband… he could hardly be considered a stalker. Especially, considering that he was merely watching her from the staircase in their home. She was slowly moving around a box of books, with a contemplated look on her face. She kept taking a step towards the box before taking a step backwards again. She kept hesitating and hesitating before...

"You better not be thinking about picking up that box," he said.

Startled, his wife jumped at the sound of his voice. "Fred! You gave me a heart attack!" she exclaimed, putting her hand over her chest.

"Well you would have given me a heart attack if you had picked up that box," Fred grinned. "You know you're not meant to lift heavy things, 'Mione"

Hermione put her hands on her hips and gave her husband a glare. "Excuse me for wanting to help."

Fred laughed at this, "you can help by sitting your pregnant self on the couch and watching."

"That's something I don't want to do, Fred."

"Well fortunately for you, I have something for you to do instead."

"And pray tell, what is that?"

Fred raised an eyebrow at her, "you know what you have to do first."

Hermione sighed as she rubbed her slightly protruding stomach. At 18 weeks pregnant, there was very little Fred would allow her to do, and she dreaded the months to come. Fred walked over to her and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "I can't have you hurting yourself now, can I? Not while our little guy is still in here." He splayed his hand over her bump for emphasis. Hermione pushed his hand away and moved to the couch. She let out a frustrated sigh as she crossed her arms and collapsed onto the couch. "What's wrong now?"

"I'm so bloody bored!" she said exasperatedly.

Fred still grinned; she looked so cute even when she was sulking. "Oh love, don't be like that. I'm sure we can find you something to do whilst sitting still for a little while."

Hermione propped her elbow up on the armrest and rested her head against her fist. "So are you going to tell me what it is that I can do from here, aside from '_watching_'?" She hissed out the last word for her emphasis.

"Not with that tone, young lady."

"Fine, I'll read then," Hermione huffed, and changed her focus to the boxes at her feet. "Fred... where _are_ my books?"

"Still in all seventeen boxes you put them in."

"And where are they?" Fred shrugged his response, for they were in the middle of dozens of boxes filled with everything from kitchenware to linen. "Okay... where is my _What to Expect When You're Expecting_ book?" she looked at the boxes with longing. "Can you find it for me? Or even _Baby Steps: The Guide to Magical Babies_? Or _any _of my pregnancy books?"

"That's going to take a while, love..." Hermione gave him a hard glare. "Oh Hermione, you've read every muggle and wizard book there is on pregnancy... twice. Can't you just take a break from it all for one day? Come on it's our 'Moving In' Day!"

Hermione snorted, "Yeah, but you won't let me _move_. You said you wanted me to do something, go get my books!"

Fred sighed, "How about a compromise?" He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a pamphlet before handing it over. Hermione took it and discovered it was covered in several squares detailing every single colour ever imagined. "You can start picking out what colours you want to paint the baby's room."

"Just the baby's room?" Hermione queried.

Fred laughed. "Fine, every room, as long as you keep your gorgeous self on that couch for a few hours," he grinned and placed a kiss on her cheek.

Hermione still wasn't satisfied, but she gave in to her husband's task. Whilst she was deciding whether to paint the baby's room blue or a more gender neutral colour, she thought about the baby lying within her womb. Constantly moving, and ever growing, her baby was the foundation to being happy for the rest of her life.

But on the other hand, there was the negative side of the pregnancy. The morning sickness hadn't quite worn off, but she felt that she had made incredible progress by only being able to throw up once a day. But to replace the consistent nausea, there was the swelling and aches. She was lucky if she could go a day without taking a nap, as her energy plummeted quite quickly throughout the day. Her back and swelling feet caused her daily annoyance, and she spent so much of her day sitting around that she felt very counterproductive. She felt lumpy and sore. In Hermione's opinion, the less said about the cramps the better.

She rubbed her stomach thoughtfully, and watched her husband carry boxes up and down the stairs of their new home. Fred had been so good to her and the baby. Despite all his tomfoolery, Fred knew when to be mature when it mattered. Hermione had lost count of her hormones taking control and she becoming a complete and utter mess over the simplest of things; and Fred, being the doting father-to-be, was able to calm her down and keep her grounded. He had often offered to massage her aching feet and back on a daily basis, and had proven to be quite the chef of the house.

It was during this thought that Hermione felt a flutter of movement run across her stomach.

"Oh!" Hermione gasped, her hands flying to her protruding belly.

A loud thud echoed through the room as Fred dropped a box at the sound of her gasp. "What? What is it? What's wrong?" Fred asked, not making any attempt to hide the fright he got from her outburst.

Hermione giggled as the flutter repeated itself. "Nothing, love," her hands ran over the material that covered her stomach. "He's just awake now, that's all."

Fred didn't spare a moment's hesitation as in a few strides he was next to his wife and pressing his hand against her baby bump. After a moment of waiting, he let out a frustrated sigh, "I still can't feel it" he said with a tinge of pain in his voice.

Hermione looked at the redhead with sympathy. "It's still early, love. He only started moving around the other week."

"I know," sighed Fred. He had been waiting patiently for the first movements of his son, but so far luck had not been on his side.

Hermione kissed him lightly on the lips, "The healer did say it would be a little longer until you or anybody else would feel him. And he's only doing it sporadically."

"Still," the Weasley twin moaned. He poked the slight bump of his wife hoping to jolt the tiny life hiding inside of her into moving for him.

"Oh love, don't pout," said Hermione. She held out the page of paint samples, "here's something to take your mind off it."

"Oh ha, ha" Fred rolled his eyes. "Aren't you funny?"

"Well, one of us had to be in this relationship," she giggled. Fred stuck out his tongue at her, which Hermione responded with an intense kiss on his lips. After they broke apart, Fred stroked her hair and gave her a gentle smile. Hermione knew that smile, he was concerned. "So, if I'm picking out paint... what are you going to do now?"

Fred took a look around at all the boxes, "Probably bring more of these upstairs. I'm pretty sure that you'll want some sheets or something to sleep in tonight."

"If I can sleep," Hermione whispered quietly, but her husband still heard it.

The redhead frowned at her words. "Are you still having those dreams?"

Hermione shook her head, but she knew she was lying. The restless nights had been another unfortunate side effect of her pregnancy. The dreams had started a few weeks ago, and she had lost count of how many times she had woken up in a cold sweat, panting as if she had run a marathon. Some nights were worse than others, and it was those nights that Fred often had to wake her up to snap her out of the dream she was in.

The dreams had started innocent enough; they had been filled with warmth and love. She had imagined Fred playing with his son; she had dreamed that they would be the happy family that they should've been all these years. But then they always began to turn sour as the dreams progressed. One moment Fred would be playing with their young son, next he was drenched in their son's blood, claiming that she would be next. Some nights, her son would begin growing a third eye and fangs, before attacking her. But the dreams were starting become more sporadic, so she decided not to keep Fred in the loop about them anymore, as she can see that his worry was growing with every dream she had.

"Hermione, I know you're lying," commented Fred. "You were moaning in your sleep last night."

Hermione blushed as her dream from last night flooded back to her. "You shouldn't misconstrue what you hear late at night."

"What do you mean?"

"Fred," she gave him a sly smirk. "Think about it. I was _moaning_."

"What are you..." His ears turned crimson, as the answer dawned on him. "Oh..." he gave her a wicked smile, "I hadn't realised you were getting _those _kinds of dreams either."

Hermione laughed, and grabbed his shirt to pull him closer towards her. "I don't recall a time when I wasn't having _those_ kinds of dreams."

Fred strangled a moan at the back of his throat at her words. "You're such a tease..." he said huskily, before putting his hands on top of hers. His tone changed completely when he added, "but you're also changing the subject."

The bushy-haired witch sighed, and let go of her husband's shirt. "They are probably nothing, love," Hermione said. "Your mum says that she used to get some crazy dreams when she was pregnant, same with Ginny."

Fred didn't seem moved by this reassurance. "I'd rather you go see someone about this. You're not getting enough sleep these days."

"I get plenty of sleep!" she retorted. "You're the one not getting any sleep clearly, if you spend half the night watching me and misinterpreting everything you hear. Stop worrying, Fred. Everything is fine."

Fred didn't stop worrying, nor would he stop as long as these dreams kept occurring. Hermione knew this, but she was positive that these dreams were a result of her overdriven hormones. She also knew that she wouldn't be able to convince Fred of these facts anytime soon. Looking at his crestfallen face at her bitter retort, she decided that she may have been too harsh, and it was worth having another go at distracting him.

"You know I have noticed something," said Hermione, twirling a strand of her brown hair around her finger. "I never seem to get bad dreams after a night of you rocking my world."

Fred smirked. There was no use fighting with her any more. "Is that so?"

She nodded, and moved closer to nibble on his ear. "Hmm, what do you say that we christen the bedroom? And then every other room in this house?" Hermione whispered suggestively. Fred didn't hesitate as he effortlessly picked up his pregnant wife and made a beeline for their bedroom.

* * *

**A/N: **_And thus, it begins…_

_Never wrote a sequel before to anything (probably because I never finished anything before) so this is new. But got fantastic ideas for the future of this (I thought ahead slightly!) but warning to all:_

_This will be a lot darker than the first. _

_**Something wicked comes this way…**_

_I'll leave you to ponder on that on a while. In the meantime, review! Because I'm back and they're back! _

_Infinite X's and O's,_

_Creative Touch_

_P.S. 50 million points to who can tell me where the first line comes from? ("He watched her")_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **_So it wasn't the super speedy update I wanted. But dammit, it is a damn good LONG chapter. Enjoy! _

**Dedication: **_10 points to _**ElectricIndigoAndAllThatsDead **_for correctly identifying the line "he watched her" from last chapter; as the opening line in the first chapter of _Filling in the Gap_. Kudos to you! It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy knowing people are reading my Author's Notes (seriously people, I suggest you read them – they are full of wonderful spoilers and insights)._

* * *

Last time**: **

"_You know I have noticed something," said Hermione, twirling a strand of her brown hair around her finger. "I never seem to get bad dreams after a night of you rocking my world." _

_Fred smirked. There was no use fighting with her any more. "Is that so?" _

_She nodded, and moved closer to nibble on his ear. "Hmm, what do you say that we christen the bedroom? And then every other room in this house?" Hermione whispered suggestively. Fred didn't hesitate as he effortlessly picked up his pregnant wife and made a beeline for their bedroom._

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**X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X **

**B.R.O.K.E.N**

**Chapter Two**

**X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X **

The house of Fred and Hermione Weasley always appeared to be normal on the outside, if you exclude the number of indecent and sneaky reporters hiding around in the bushes at the front. Your usual two story, suburban house, complete with an enchanted garden that was always in bloom. Most of the neighbours would agree that the recently moved-in tenants were the most famous people to ever have lived on the street, and were actually quite pleasant despite their fame.

The neighbours didn't have a single thing to complain about, happily enjoying the attention that the two new tenants brought. However, they were also more than happy to spill the beans to the reporters about the things they heard coming from the house. A few snarky comments were said about the noises they heard late at night, of shouting and groans.

Now these comments started a wide variety of theories. Shouting and groans could be mixed and matched in several different excuses and reasons. Most of the shouting was incoherent, but there was always an unmistakable shout of Mr Weasley shouting out the name "Hermione". But regardless of what was said, or heard, it was enough for the _Daily Prophet _to claim that Hermione Weasley was a victim in her own marriage, often fighting with her husband, and more than once did she look very unsettled in public.

Of course, majority of the neighbours knew that the new Mrs Weasley was in fact pregnant, and had entered a tricky phase of her pregnancy that came with a very large sex drive. So to them, it was no surprise that late at night that occasionally, when they had forgotten to put up silencing charms, the Weasley household was shaken with shouting and groaning.

It was just after dawn on a Wednesday morning, and the sound of groaning could be heard coming from the upstairs master bedroom. Fred, who had been having a pleasant dream about the day he quit his education, was jolted awake when he felt an arm hit him hard in the chest. Sleepily, he rubbed his eyes to see what had woken him up, and turned to see his pregnant wife toss and turn next to him.

Immediately, Fred sat straight up as he watched her struggle to be released from the dream that had a hold of her. This was not an uncommon occurrence any more, Fred had lost count of the times he had woken up due to her erratic movements during her slumber. He groaned inwardly as Hermione continued to be overtaken by the dream, and as a result had kicked Fred in the shin. Fred could see that this was a particularly bad dream, she was covered in sweat, and her hands were gripped tightly around the blankets.

"Hermione! Hermione! Wake up!" Fred said, shaking his wife out of her sleep.

Hermione's eyes snapped open so suddenly, Fred almost thought she was faking the whole thing. She'd been clammy, cold and shivering, panting as if she had just run a long way, and in her eyes was a look of things too terrible to be borne. "Oh Merlin," she gasped, trying to catch her breath. "I was having-"

"A nightmare?" Fred finished for her.

Fred looked at her with both concern and frustration. He had never seen someone suffer so badly from dreams, and it killed him to watch her go through it night after night. On the other hand, he got annoyed that she refused to do anything about it. Time and time again he had begged her to go find the root of her dreams, it didn't matter what the answer was but at least they would have an answer, or a way of dealing with them. But again and again, Hermione refused to seek help, and all Fred could do was hold her until she lapsed once more into an uneasy slumber.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at her husband. "Don't give me that look, Fred. It wasn't _that _bad."

Fred snorted at her comment. "I'm sure you were thrashing around like that because you believed you were a mermaid."

"Dammit, Fred! Could we not do this again? I'm fine!"

"You're not fine," Fred snapped. "You're heart's racing."

Hermione knew he was right, but she didn't want to back down so easily. Instead, she threw her husband a look of annoyance, and retorted that he go and do something obscene and anatomically impossible.

"Merlin, Hermione! Why are you so uptight about this!? I'm just trying to help!" The hurt embedded in his voice was obvious, but Hermione refused to be swayed.

"They are just dreams, Fred. They don't mean anything," she said, throwing the blankets off her.

"Try telling Harry that," Fred mumbled ungraciously.

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh, "For the last time, I'm not sharing a mind with Voldemort – _my _dreams don't mean anything."

"It sure doesn't sound that way," Fred argued. "These have been going on for _weeks_ now, Hermione. You're practically having them every night now. And it's always the same thing, "_Stop!""_ he mimicked her. ""_Fred, do something! They've got the baby! They're going to kill him!" _What? Was I meant to not think anything of that?"

Hermione's face turned as red as his hair as she pulled herself out of bed. "Yes, you're meant to ignore that. What goes on in my subconscious is none of your business."

"Either your subconscious is telling you something, or you're lying about having a clear conscious."

The pregnant witch rolled her eyes at her husband, as she pulled on her dressing gown. "You're delusional," she spat as she began to walk out of the room.

"And you're a petty child!" Fred shouted back, but his only answer was the slamming shut of the bathroom door.

**X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X**

After a long day of shopping, Ginny and Hermione found themselves taking a moment's break at a small cafe near the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes. Being halfway through her pregnancy, Hermione was used to strangers come up to her and ask to touch her protruding belly, but after the seventh person to do it in the last hour, Ginny had decided that the pregnant witch was in desperate need of cake, and Hermione didn't argue.

Once the pair had finished ordering their tea, Ginny turned to the bushy haired witch and regarded her with a thoughtful expression. "Why do you think everyone's got such an obsession with touching a pregnant stomach?" she asked, pulling James's stroller closer to her.

Hermione shrugged, "everyone loves the idea of new life, I suppose. It doesn't bother me, though."

"Evidently," the redheaded mother agreed.

Their teas arrived alongside an array of cakes and pastries. Hermione's appetite had grown in leaps and bounds in the last few weeks, and she knew she had gained a little bit of extra weight, but nobody ever wanted to agree with her. _Fear of the pregnant witch's wrath, _Hermione often thought. Nonetheless, Hermione helped herself to a particular gooey chocolate brownie, not caring where all that sugar would go.

"Twenty weeks," Ginny commented, as she began feeding James with small piece of biscuit. "You're finally at the halfway point."

"It's gone by so fast," Hermione smiled blissfully.

"You say that now, but when you're due any day and you're the most uncomfortable than you've ever been in your entire life, you'll be wishing it was over and done with."

"Oh that's rubbish," Hermione waved her off. "Pregnancy is the most natural thing in the world. If it were that bad, then nobody would get pregnant ever."

Ginny continued to feed James with small pieces. "Don't say I never warned you."

As Hermione sipped on her tea, Ginny told her pregnancy war stories of cramps and aches, and general displeasure. "All that aside, though, how have you been feeling?" Ginny asked. "You look awful."

Hermione let out a bark of laughter, "you were always one with words, Gin."

Ginny shrugged, "I call them as I see them. But seriously though, you look worse now than you did when you had all that morning sickness… You _have_ finished with the morning sickness, right?"

Hermione's stomach gave a lurch at the reminder. She reassured Ginny that the severe morning sickness had passed for the most part, but she didn't want to admit that troubling nature of the dreams. Having Fred pester her about it was enough. "I'm fine. A bit tired perhaps, but overall, I'm fine," she lied.

Ginny regarded her sourly. "You always were an awful liar."

Hermione traced the outline of a flower on the tablecloth with her fingernail. "I'm honestly just tired."

"Fred tells me you're still having nightmares," Ginny commented. "He's worried, you know." Hermione knew but she didn't want to say it out loud, and she knew from the tone of Ginny's voice, that Fred had caused the young redhead witch to be concerned too.

"Why does he feel the need to tell everyone about every little bump in the road? They really aren't that bad," she tried to assure her best friend.

Ginny was not convinced in the slightest. "He's your husband, Hermione. He loves you. He's worried about you. If these dreams are as severe as he says they are, then he has every right to ask for help, since you're not."

"There's no need to ask for help. You told me yourself that you got some weird dreams when you were pregnant with James. It's probably the same thing."

"I had dreams where I gave birth to a giant baby, who was no bigger than Grawp! I don't recall having dreams where someone gets _murdered_," she hissed out the last word under her breath, afraid that someone may overhear.

Hermione waved her off again. "You and Fred worry too much. I mean, yes, they are a little obscure, but they don't mean anything. This isn't bloody divination."

Ginny arched an eyebrow at her. "Divination? You were always so bad at divination, Hermione. You can't possibly know that these dreams don't mean something bigger."

The brunette rolled her eyes, tired of the conversation. "Divination isn't a real science. It's a complete joke."

"So the dreams don't bother you in the slightest?"

"Well… I can't say that they aren't unsettling. But perhaps if we ignore them, then maybe they'll stop all together."

"Hermione, dreams aren't like a snake," the redheaded witch warned. "If you're having these feelings, then they shouldn't be ignored. Why don't you want to talk about them? You don't even have to talk to us, perhaps someone who has a bit more insight into interpreting dreams."

"Fred thinks I should talk to Harry about them." Ginny wrinkled her nose at the very idea. "See, that's what I was thinking too. Harry would freak out if he knew. Promise me you won't tell him," she added quickly.

Ginny shifted uncomfortably in her seat, "it may already be a bit late for that." Hermione groaned at the thought. "It wasn't me who told him, Hermione. As I said, Fred's really concerned. He says you haven't slept properly in weeks."

"Fred's a liar," she retorted. "The dreams are only every now and then, and they aren't as bad as Fred believes they are."

Ginny opened her mouth to argue, but was stopped when she noticed a young, bright-eyed witch with curly black hair approached them. "I beg your pardon," she said, wringing her hands in a nervous fashion. "Don't mean to disturb, but I couldn't help noticing . . . Are you . . . Aren't you Hermione Granger?"

"It's Weasley now," said Hermione. "But yes. Have we met?"

"Well, no," said the girl. "But I am probably your biggest fan. I've been following your work with S.P.E.W for the last five years, and the house-elf movement." She added in a whisper so only the three of them could hear it as if she didn't dare to let others overhear her, "I also believe that house-elves should be paid for their efforts, rather than be forced into homes by slavery."

"Oh," Hermione said taken a bit by surprise by the way the young girl was presenting herself. "That's... great." She could see Ginny in the corner of her eye, trying very hard not to laugh. "How rude of me, this is my friend, Ginny." The smirk on Ginny's face disappeared in an instance and was replaced with a cold glare in Hermione's direction.

The black haired girl gave a little squeak. "You're Ginny Weasley!"

"Well, Ginny Potter, actually," said Ginny, looking curiously at her. "But correct in the essentials."

"I was always such a huge fan of yours, Mrs. Potter," the young girl said fawningly. "I still think you are the best Chaser the Harpies ever had. Oh, wait till I tell my mum I've met the two of you! She'll be so thrilled! Could I . . . would you possibly . . . An autograph?"

"Of course," Hermione replied. She had gotten used to the celebrity title since the war, but one quick look at Ginny told her that Ginny had not accepted it, despite being married to one of the most famous wizards in Britain. But nonetheless, Ginny obliged to give the overexcited witch the autograph she requested.

"Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?" the young fan asked, gesturing to Hermione's round stomach.

"Oh, it's a boy," Hermione smiled sweetly, giving her bump an affectionate pat.

"Oh Merlin! That's so exciting! A little cousin for young James here! They'll be close in age, so you can tell they're going to be the best of friends."

Ginny almost choked on her tea at the mention of her son. She coughed and spluttered before regarding the young witch with suspicion. "You seem to know a lot about your local celebrities, Miss…?"

"Oh how silly of me. Miss Coulburn. Melody Coulburn," the black-haired girl introduced herself. "And why wouldn't I? I'm only the biggest fan of the Golden Trio. Though I'd hardly call the two of you 'local celebrities'. Why you're war heroes!"

The two girls were really taken aback by Melody's high strength enthusiasm. Once Melody had bid the pair a goodbye, Ginny leaned over the table and gave Hermione a serious look. "I wasn't aware we had a stalker."

"Oh stop that. She's sweet," Hermione told her, taking another sip of her tea.

"Creepy is more like it."

**X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X**

When the two young witches parted ways, and Hermione headed over the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes store to talk to Fred. She was still annoyed from earlier that morning, but she felt too tired to fight with him again about it. More than anything, she was annoyed that he had gone behind her back to talk to Harry and Ginny, but at the same time she wasn't that surprised by his actions. She loved him for caring so much, she just secretly wished that he kept that care between the two of them.

She was barely inside the store when a tall redhead bounced up to her.

"Hermione!" George greeted. "My favourite sister-in-law, and of course my favourite nephew," he added, putting a hand on her bump. He waited for a moment and then said, "still not kicking for anyone?"

Hermione gave him a gentle smile, "not yet. I'm sure he's waiting for his father." She gave her stomach an affectionate pat. "Speaking of which, where is my husband?"

George pointed in the direction of the storeroom, "He's doing inventory."

She gave her brother-in-law a nod, and headed in the direction of the storeroom. Reaching the storeroom, she could hear him moving things around, and the unmistakable sound of quill scratching on paper. She opened the door and peered in.

Fred had his back towards her, and didn't hear the door opening as she let herself into the backroom. She cleared her throat to announce her presence.

"Hermione," said Fred, obviously surprised to see her. "What are you doing here?"

"What? Can't a woman come visit her husband at work anymore?"

The tips of Fred's ears began to turn red. "Of course you can. It's just... I thought you were mad at me from this morning."

Hermione shrugged, "I got over it. You're only looking out for me... Well, for us," she added, rubbing her protruding belly.

Fred didn't try to hide the surprise in his voice. "Really?"

"I _do,_ however, have a problem with you telling Harry and Ginny about the dreams."

Fred shuffled his feet awkwardly, and peered at her through the corners of his eyes, like a child caught in mischief. "Sorry," he mumbled. He rubbed the back of his neck in a guilty fashion, "I just wanted you to talk to someone about them, and I knew you wouldn't tell Harry and Ginny about them if it were up to you."

Her heart went out to her husband. He meant well. "I'm so sick of all this fighting, Fred," Hermione told him. "We're having a baby, we're still practically newlyweds. We should be having the greatest sex of our lives, not arguing all the time."

Fred gave her a wry smile. "Well, I'm definitely not turning down having great sex."

Hermione rolled her eyes at her husband and shook her head. "Down boy. I'm just saying that you need to trust me when it comes to these things. And in return," she let out a sigh, "I will go see a healer, if it puts your mind at ease."

Fred let out a sigh of relief, and then he placed his arms around Hermione. "Thank you. I love you."

"You're welcome," she said. "And I know."

"Do you know how much?"

"I have a pretty good idea." She placed both hands on her rounded belly. "Here's proof."

Fred chuckled as he knelt down to be at eye level with her bump. Placing his hands on either side of hers, he addressed the roundness. "Hi, little one. It's your dad here."

The baby chose that moment to give a little kick. "Oh, my!" said Hermione. "I think he knows who you are."

Fred's eyes were wide as saucers as his hands lingered over Hermione's stomach. "I-I… I felt that," he choked out.

Hermione smiled at him as the baby responded once again with another kick.

"I felt that!" Fred ran his hands over Hermione's stomach. "I felt that! That's the first time I felt him kick!" He got up and pulled Hermione into a passionate kiss. "I love you," he mumbled against her lips as their kiss deepened.

Just as his hands began working up her back, Hermione pulled away, and she heard Fred unsuccessfully attempt to supress a groan at the back of his throat. She got down from her tiptoes and moved towards the door. She walked to the door, shut it and then locked it.

Confused, Fred asked, "What are you doing?"

Hermione turned around and gave him a wicked smile. "I'm going to show you how much I love you."

* * *

**A/N: **_I'm on a bit (I said 'a bit'!) of a roll with this, so hopefully I can keep up the pace. But at least you have a long chapter, right?_

_I have some mystery and intrigue planned for this story, and being inspired by Ms J.K. Rowling, I am laying down the ground work in these beginning chapters. _

_All I can say is __**KEEP YOUR EYES OPEN**__, there's a whole world of clues coming up, and some may have already revealed themselves. _

_Two things you should definitely keep in check: the dreams and Melody. Obviously the dreams play a key role already, but there's more to it than the eye can see. But in the meantime, whilst the dreams play themselves out - Keep an eye on Melody. She'll appear a few times in upcoming chapters. _

_REVIEW please! I want to know that people still love me, despite my 2 year absence. And to restore my faith in my ability to still write decently, for a university English student. _

_Infinite X's and O's,  
Creative Touch  
xxx_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Another update already? Say whaaatttt?

Last time**: **

_"I felt that!" Fred ran his hands over Hermione's stomach. "I felt that! That's the first time I felt him kick!" He got up and pulled Hermione into a passionate kiss. "I love you," he mumbled against her lips as their kiss deepened. _

_Just as his hands began working up her back, Hermione pulled away, and she heard Fred unsuccessfully attempt to supress a groan at the back of his throat. She got down from her tiptoes and moved towards the door. She walked to the door, shut it and then locked it. _

_Confused, Fred asked, "What are you doing?"_

_Hermione turned around and gave him a wicked smile. "I'm going to show you how much I love you."_

* * *

**X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X **

**B.R.O.K.E.N**

**Chapter Three**

**X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X **

Hermione picked up a magazine, flipped though it for a moment before tossing it aside. She was nervous about this healer's appointment. She had promised Fred she would come here in order to find the root of her dreams, but she was starting to wonder whether or not she wanted to know the answer. She felt unsettled, and jumpy, and she would react to the slightest noise in the room – whether it be the sound of the ticking clock or the sound of Ginny's humming as she flicked through a magazine.

"Thanks for coming with me, Ginny," Hermione said, wringing her hands in a nervous fashion.

"Any time, Hermione," the redhead said, not looking up from her magazine.

She was grateful the youngest Weasley was with her. She didn't want to do this alone.

Hermione tried to distract herself whilst the two waited for the healer. She pulled out a stack of paperwork from her bag and began to put quill to paper. She cursed under her breath as she realized she had forgotten a particular important document on her desk at the Ministry. She hated missing out on work, but she didn't have much of a choice with the baby on the way. Hermione sighed as she proceeded with her documents about passing a new law that would make it illegal to move Grindylows from their natural habitats; but her mind drifted regardless.

She thought about her latest dream; the one where she found herself standing in the same waiting room begging for someone to abort the baby, and when they refused, she somehow produced a large knife and slammed it into her body blade first. Hermione gave a small shudder at how visually correct her mind had made the waiting room in her dream.

She then thought of Fred's face hovering above her that morning, the worry lines evident in his face. The lines were becoming such a permanent mark on his face, Hermione didn't have the heart to argue with him anymore. She wanted to soothe his mind like he had done to her before, but his mind was at a constant unease, and that in turn had made Hermione's. She normally didn't think much of her dreams, but Fred's concerned and opened up a world of confusion for her.

Hermione suddenly found herself wishing that she actually stuck with Divination after her third year, to not only shut up Professor Treawnly, but to be able to solve this problem for herself. If its one thing Hermione Granger hated, it was a problem that could not be solved with simple logic. _Some brilliant witch_, Hermione thought to herself sadly. _Brightest witch of my age, Merlin's saggy left…_

"Hermione," Ginny's voice broke her thoughts. Ginny had discarded the magazine and now was looking at Hermione with a serious expression. "How come you never bring Fred to one of your appointments?"

Hermione cringed at the question at hand. "Fred's busy," she told the redhead.

"I'm sure he would take time off to come with you, if you asked." Ginny put a hand on Hermione's, and looked at her with concerning eyes. "Hermione, is everything alright with you and Fred?"

Hermione nodded. "We're fine."

"Then why didn't you ask him to come today? This appointment was important to him," Ginny frowned.

"As I said, he's busy. I don't like to bother him with trivial things."

"This is _his _baby, Hermione. It's hardly what he would consider to be trivial. Don't you suppose that he might want to be a little bit more involved? I've never seen him so tense."

"Yes, well, could you imagine what he'd be like if he were here then?" Hermione rebutted. "He'd be more of a nervous wreck than usual."

Ginny opened her mouth to retort, but the pair were distracted by the sound of a door opening, and voices coming closer. Hermione watched as two women entered the room.

"Yes, yes, of course," said the healer, a plump, middle-aged witch with black hair and very dark eyes called Ileana Giatros. "It's really nothing to worry about. Just cut back on the sweets and starches a bit and you should be all right." She looked around and saw Hermione in the hallway. "Ah, Mrs. Weasley! I won't have to ask the assistant to go and collect you after all. Why don't you come straight in?"

She stood aside to let Hermione pass while the young woman scurried off to the waiting room, muttering something that sounded like, "Scales must be off". As Hermione made her way down the hall, she felt the foetus inside her give a noticeable lurch. Hermione was starting to feel sick, she had decided she didn't really want to know the answer behind her dreams. She was scared of the answer. But she was now entering the examination room, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to walk out without Ginny or Fred pestering her on what the healer had said. She was trying to think of an escape route when Healer Giatros picked up her chart.

"Let's see now, you're at twenty-one weeks gestation. Still taking the _M__ane__Languorem_ potion, of course. Any more morning sickness?"

"No," Hermione replied. "But I've had some soreness in my back and lower abdomen."

"Hmm," said the healer. "Well, hop up onto the examination table and let's have a look." Hermione climbed onto the padded table and lay still while the older woman waved a wand in slow co-centric circles over her body. "Blood pressure's a bit high," Healer Giatros said thoughtfully. "That might explain the pains you've been having."

The plump witch continued waving her wand over Hermione's abdomen, and Hermione felt a slight tinge of pain run across her stomach. Healer Giatros seemed oblivious to the pain, and began to mutter something under her breath. "Is everything alright?" Hermione asked.

"I'm a little concerned about the size of the baby. He's a little small for my liking. Or perhaps you're not quite as far along as we had expected," Healer Giatros said faintly.

"Should I be worried?"

"It could be nothing. I think we may want to start you on a more frequent appointment schedule, and up the dosage of that potion. And of course you'll notify me at once if you notice anything out of the ordinary. Now about this blood pressure..."

"Yes, I know," Hermione replied sulkily. "My husband seems to think I'm working myself too much."

"And you think he may be right?" said the healer, taking in Hermione's expression. "Well, that could explain it. I think I'll also prescribe a calming draught. Only take it when necessary, as it loses effectiveness with too frequent use, but it can be helpful for anxiety in expectant mothers. No, no, it won't harm the baby. It's been thoroughly tested. The only notable side-effect is unusual dreams."

Hermione stared. "Unusual dreams?"

Healer Giatros, who still had her wand, took another reading. "My goodness, there goes that blood pressure again! I think I'll double that prescription. Be sure to stop by the chemist on your way out."

She helped Hermione off the padded table before giving her a piece of parchment that contained her prescription order. Hermione was just about to leave the room but the thought at the back of her mind stopped her. She cursed under her breath as she made a painful decision to ask the question that was plaguing her husband. "Healer Giatros?"

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley?"

"It's about the um… unusual dreams. I've been having these dreams for a couple of weeks now, and well…" she held out her hands helplessly. "I can't seem to sleep longer than a couple of hours now. These dreams have been sort of… terrifying." It wasn't the word she wanted to use, but it just popped out of her mouth before she got a chance to stop it.

Healer Giatros looked Hermione up and down with a contemplated expression. She picked up her quill and began scribbling something down on Hermione's chart. Hermione felt her heart skip a beat pondering what was being written down about her. "Well, I don't specialize in this field, so I can't give you an official diagnosis on this matter. But at the top of my head, it could be anything from stress to perhaps a side-effect from the war. Have you been under any extra stress lately?" She gave Hermione a judgmental look.

Hermione bit her lip. "I suppose there's been a bit of stress."

Healer Giatros shook her head and clicked her tongue. "No wonder then. An overworking mind tends to bring up the worst things from our subconscious. Perhaps you should listen to your husband and take a step back from work."

Hermione nodded in understanding and headed back to the waiting room. Ginny was still reading her magazine when Hermione returned to the waiting room, but she managed a smile and said, "Everything all right?"

"Seems to be," Hermione replied. "I need to stop by the chemist, though. I have a new potions prescription."

Ginny nodded and the two witches made their way to the chemist at St. Mungo's. Hermione sacrificed the prescription parchment to the chemist and began to drum her fingers on the counter. Ginny observed her and narrowed her eyes at the brunette.

"What did the healer say about the dreams?" Ginny asked as the pair waited for Hermione's potions. "You did mention the dreams, didn't you?"

"Yes," said Hermione with a slightly bitter undertone. "She said it's probably stress."

"That's it? Stress?" Ginny repeated incredulously. "How much stress are you under?"

"It could be some unresolved tension from the war," Hermione said pointedly. "That seems more plausible, don't you think?"

Ginny didn't look convinced, but fortunately the chemist called out just then that Hermione's potions were ready. After collecting her prescriptions and gathering up their things, the subject appeared to have been conveniently forgotten. "Did you want to come back to the house and have a cup of tea? We can talk baby stuff," Ginny asked as they left the hospital.

Hermione agreed but quickly regretted doing so. Ginny talked the entire way about nursery sets, strollers and diaper cloths. As soon as she moved the topic onto maternity leave, Hermione cringed. She thought about what the healer had said about taking a break from work, and how it had echoed with what Fred had told her earlier in the week. Was stress really the root of all these dreams? If anything, the dreams were causing more stress than anything else in her life, and that confused her further. Stress brought on the dreams, and in turn, the dreams made her stress. It seemed like a vicious, unfair cycle in Hermione's opinion.

She was so deep in her thoughts, she hadn't realised that they had arrived at the Potters and Ginny was waving a hand in front of Hermione's face. "Hello?" Ginny said, and Hermione blinked in surprise.

"Sorry, what were you saying?"

"I'm just going to floo Mum and check in on James. Have a seat, I won't be long," the redhead informed her, before disappearing to use the Floo network in the other room.

Whilst Hermione waited on the couch, she felt her eyes grow heavy. She hadn't slept properly in weeks, and combined with pregnancy, she felt exhausted all the time. She secretly wished she hadn't accepted Ginny's offer to have tea, and thought of her wide warm bed waiting for her at home. She propped up a cushion against the arm of the couch and lay down. Hermione decided to close her eyes for a moment, just to rest them before Ginny returned with the hot beverages…

* * *

_Hermione found herself in Ginny's childhood room of the Burrow. She had always considered this room practically her own after the war, especially when Ginny kept sneaking out to go see Harry. She couldn't remember how she got here, let alone what she was doing at the Burrow. Fred was sitting opposite her, giving her a gentle smile, a tinge of love and warmth was present in his face. He took her hand and traced the lines on her palm with his finger. _

"_You're going to have a rich life, you know," he told her. _

"_I didn't know you could read palms," she said mildly surprised. Fred always had unique and obscure tricks up his sleeve. He seemed to always seek out the abilities that nobody necessarily needed, but at the same time, gave everyone something to laugh about later. Hermione watched him as he continued to trace the lines that ran across her palm. _

_He was following one particular line and then stopped when the line broke off. "You're going to die soon though. The line's broken, your life will end suddenly."_

_She looked down at her palm, there was a definitely a line that was shorter than the others. "That's not a nice thing to say, Fred," she frowned at him. But he wasn't looking at her anymore. Instead, his attention had shifted and he was staring at something to his left. _

"_But it's true though," he said in an uncomfortably calm voice. _

_Hermione followed his gaze and her eyes fell onto a hooded figure standing over a baby's bassinet. Where did that bassinet come from? Was it always there? She hadn't noticed it before, but the mothering instinct in her roared deep inside as the hooded figure peered into the bassinet. Hermione couldn't see the baby, but she could hear it; a loud piercing cry filled the room and she felt the urge to protect the infant. The hooded figure bent down and picked up the crying infant, and Hermione saw a tuft of Weasley red hair poke out from the bundle of blue blanket. Instantly, Hermione felt a sense of recognition as she realized the crying baby was her own._

"_Hey!" she said, jumping up from the bed. "Put him down." She felt around her back pocket for her wand, but a wave of fear washed over her as she grasped nothing but air. She didn't have her wand on her. That was so unlike her. Harry would have her guts for garters if he knew she had entered a situation like this without a wand._

_She turned to Fred to see where his effort to protect their son was, but he was sitting there, staring at the figure. He hadn't moved, he hadn't spoken. He just stared, oblivious to the situation at hand, and blind to her panic. _

"_I told you to put him down," she yelled at the hooded figure. _

_The hooded figure turned towards her, and it was the first time Hermione had saw the intruder's face. Except there was no face. No eyes. No nose. No mouth. Just pink flesh stretched over a skull but had no sense of identity. _

_Hermione gasped at the gruesome sight. "Who are you? What do you want?" she screamed, tears spilling from her eyes. She was wandless, she was alone, and she couldn't fight against this monster holding her child. The hooded figure didn't speak but slowly lifted up a hand and pointed at the tall redhead sitting next to her. The faceless monster wanted her husband in exchange for her baby. This was a choice Hermione hated to make, but she knew Fred was strong and resilient, and their baby was not. He could fend for himself, but her baby was powerless. _

_Before she gave her answer, the faceless monster crumbled into a heap of ash on the floor, taking her baby with them. Hermione let out a scream as she stared at the pile of ash sitting on the floor. "No, no, no!" she cried. "That wasn't the deal!" _

_She felt Fred finally stand up next to her, but his presence seemed so cold that Hermione shivered as if a dementor had entered the room. Fred turned his head slowly to her, and Hermione stared deep into his eyes. The beautiful midnight blue had gone, and was instead replaced by intense black. "This is your fault," he growled. "This is all your fault. You could've stopped this."_

"_Fred?"_

_His voice turned demonic as he told her that she would pay for her actions. "A life for a life," he said, before drawing out his wand from his robes. _

"_Fred? Wh-wh-what are you doing?" _

_A flash of evil ran across his face as he pointed the wand directly at her. "Avada-"_

* * *

Hermione felt a pair of hands on her shoulders giving her a gentle shake. A voice full of panic and distress penetrated the dream, and Hermione's eyes stung as she opened them to bright lights.

"Hermione! Hermione!" Ginny was shaking her awake. She could see in Ginny's eyes that Ginny had witnessed something that was deeply distressing, and in the pit of her stomach, she knew what. Ginny was pale underneath her freckles, and her brown eyes were wide with fear. "Merlin, Fred wasn't kidding. Those dreams are intense."

Hermione was drenched in sweat, her heart was racing over a mile a minute. She felt embarrassed that Ginny had seen her in this state of weakness, but at the same time, she felt scared from the new dream that had just left her mind. She attempted to sit up, but Ginny's surprisingly strong hand pushed her back down.

"Don't even think about it," Ginny scolded in a tone that could rival Mrs. Weasley's. She put a hand in a motherly fashion on Hermione's cheek. "You're burning up," Ginny murmured, conjuring a cloth out of thin air and pressing the cool fabric against Hermione's feverish forehead.

Hermione moaned at the refreshing feeling. She sighed as she let the young witch dab the cloth across her brow. "Gin-"

"I can't believe you waited this long to get help," Ginny stated, with a look of disbelief.

"It's never been this bad."

Ginny scoffed at the comment. "I've told you before, you're a hopeless liar."

They were interrupted by the unmistakable sound of someone using the Floo network, and a masculine voice calling out, "Ginny?" Hermione knew that voice, and she looked over to Ginny who gave her an apologetic look.

"You called Fred?" Hermione asked.

"I'm sorry," Ginny said in quiet, strained voice so that only Hermione could hear her. "I didn't know what else to do."

The two girls heard the footsteps come closer towards them, and it wasn't long until Fred walked into the room, looking as disheveled as ever. His breathing was ragged, as if he had run all the way from Diagon Alley, and his hair was as unkempt as Harry's. He staggered for a moment, trying to catch his breath, but stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of his wife.

"Hermione," Fred said. Upon seeing his sister kneeling over Hermione, Fred's face drained of colour and he was at Hermione's side within a few strides. "Are you alright?" he asked, grabbing her hand and pressing a hard kiss into her palm.

"I'm fine, Fred," she told him gently, but her answer seemed to fall on deaf ears.

Fred rounded on his sister and demanded to know what happened. "I leave you alone with her for a few hours, and look what happened!"

"Don't use that tone with me, Fred Weasley," Ginny pointed a finger at him accusingly. Hermione saw her other hand twitch towards the wand in her back pocket, and knew that Fred was in the midst of being on the receiving end of one of Ginny's infamous bat-bogey hexes. "She fell asleep, what could I have done about that?"

Hermione attempted to sit up again. "Fred-"

"DON'T!" The two Weasley siblings said in unison and Hermione flopped back onto the couch.

"Why is she falling asleep on your couch?" Fred asked.

"I left the room-"

Fred's expression quickly turned sour as he growled, "You _left_?"

"I'm free to do what I want in my own house, Fred."

"Not when you're meant to be helping my pregnant wife."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the comment. She was pregnant, not invalid. Whilst the two continued bickering, Hermione used the opportunity to sit up properly and shake the cobwebs that cluttered her mind.

"Look, I called you because I'm just as worried about her as you," Ginny scowled.

Fred seemed unmoved. "You've got a funny way of showing it. Look at her! Some help you've been!"

"It's not her fault, Fred!" Hermione screamed at her husband. The two siblings turned to Hermione in surprise, clearly have forgotten that she was there. Hermione's gaze turned downcast as she fumbled with the words of her next sentence. "I fell a… Ginny was… Can I just go home now?" She said it with such a pleading voice that Fred's heart lurched at the sound.

Fred and Ginny exchanged a look, and Ginny let out an exasperated sigh before helping Hermione onto her feet. Fred quickly put Hermione's arm around his shoulder, clearly believing that she wasn't fit enough to walk to the fireplace herself.

"I think a dose of that potion might be in order," Ginny told the pregnant witch.

Hermione nodded in understanding, but Fred questioned his sister. "Potion? What potion?"

"She has a new prescription," she explained bitterly. "It's a calming draught. Honestly, you both could use some."

Fred was about to start yet another argument when Hermione gave him a serious look that caused Fred to bit his tongue. She thanked Ginny for her hospitality but Fred seemed to want to get back to their own home as much as she did.

As soon as they stepped out of the fireplace and into their own living room, Fred held out his hand and gestured for something to be put in it. Hermione sighed as she rummaged through her purse and pulled out the brown paper bag that contained her new prescription. Fred peered into the bag to check the contents. Once satisfied, he grabbed her hand and wordlessly led her to the bathroom where he began to set up her dosage.

Hermione leaned against the doorway as she watched her husband read the instructions for her potion. She approached him and gave his shoulder a squeeze. Fred groaned at the action, pausing what he was doing with her potion. "You're very tense," Hermione commented as she continued to soothe out the tough muscle with her little hands.

Fred chuckled, as he put a hand on top of hers. "One tends to be when their wives are in distress. I wish there were a set of instructions for your dreams."

"I'm sorry," she whispered gently. A startling thought came to her as Fred uncorked the potion and began to pour. "Fred," Hermione said warily. "Do you know how to read palms?"

Fred blinked in surprise. "I studied it on my own for a while, yes." He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her. "How did you know that?"

"I didn't," she mumbled, her heart sinking to her stomach.

Fred wisely dropped the subject as he finished measuring out her dosage. "Here," Fred said, passing her the purple liquid.

The sweet potion slid down her throat, and Hermione felt the effects immediately. She sleepily made her way to the bed, and the second her head hit the pillow, she drifted off into the most peaceful slumber she had had in years.

* * *

**A/N: **

_Okay, now things are about get kicked into high gear, beloved readers! _

_Keep in mind of what you have read, what you know and what I've told you. And strap yourselves in for a bumpy ride, because this story is going to have yourself in total anticipation. _

_Next chapter is well on its way, so keep checking those inbox owls for the next installment. _

_My inbox owls have somehow gotten lost I think, because I have yet to get more positive feedback. I think the world must've forgotten about me at some point in my absence, and loyal fans are hard to come by these days it seems. _

_Anyways, a little hint: there is a very minute detail that was mentioned in Hermione's appointment that will play out in later chapters. It's such a tiny detail that right now you probably don't think much of it, but just you wait…_

_Infinite X's and O's,  
Creative Touch _

_xxx_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **I feel that the last chapter was poorly written. I'm too lazy to go back and rewrite it, but I'm hoping this chapter is much better.

* * *

Last time:

_"I'm sorry," she whispered gently. A startling thought came to her as Fred uncorked the potion and began to pour. "Fred," Hermione said warily. "Do you know how to read palms?"_

_Fred blinked in surprise. "I studied it on my own for a while, yes." He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her. "How did you know that?"_

_"I didn't," she mumbled, her heart sinking to her stomach._

_Fred wisely dropped the subject as he finished measuring out her dosage. "Here," Fred said, passing her the purple liquid._

_The sweet potion slid down her throat, and Hermione felt the effects immediately. She sleepily made her way to the bed, and the second her head hit the pillow, she drifted off into the most peaceful slumber she had had in years._

* * *

**X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X **

**B.R.O.K.E.N**

**Chapter Four**

**X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X **

"_Hello Minister!" bellowed Percy, sending a neat jinx straight at Thicknesse, who dropped his wand, and clawed at the front of his robes, apparently in awful discomfort. "Did I __mention I'm resigning?"_

"_You're joking Perce!' shouted Fred, as the Death Eater he was battling collapsed under the weight of three separate Stunning Spells. Thicknesse had fallen to the ground with tiny spikes erupting all over him; he seemed to be turning into some kind of sea urchin. Fred __looked at Percy with glee. "You are actually are joking ... I don't think I have heard you joke since you were-" _

_The air exploded, as intended. The spell had worked exactly the way he had planned it, blowing up the corridor into rubble, causing a large amount of dust and brick to fall around them. This was the time. He had to leave now, he had to go meet Candice, run away and start anew. But he had to move quickly, before anyone else noticed what was going on. _

_They had been grouped together, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred and __Percy, the two Death Eaters at their feet, one stunned, the other transfigured. Whilst the thick layer of dust was still in the air, masking everything that was going on, Fred quickly checked the pulse of the one Death Eater that had been stunned._

Dead_,_ _Fred confirmed, feeling a little let down that this plan was going too well. Fred could hear the others starting to find their way through the rubble and dust that lay around him, and with a quick spell, the body of the Death Eater was transformed into the mirror image of him. There was no way of going back now. _

_He had to leave now, time was quickly running out. The voices of fear and panic were getting louder. Fred heard Hermione's voice amongst them all, and his heart lurched. He was doing this for her. He had to leave her, let her move on with her life, find happiness elsewhere. She could never know what he had done, and the consequences it had brought on. _

_Fred quickly ran and hid behind what was left of the wall, and he could hear Percy's painful cries of disbelief as he uncovered the transfigured Death Eater. Fred held his breath as he heard the others discover the same thing, and released it when he heard them leave the fake body. This was now or never, and whilst he was much interested in the latter, he couldn't bear the thought of Hermione knowing the truth. _

What's done is done, _was his last thoughts before he walked away from it all. From the battle, from Hogwarts, and from Hermione…_

Fred's snapped open as he was forced back into the real world. It had been almost seven years since that night, but it still haunted him. And whilst everything had ended up in his favour, he still resented the choices he made that lead him up to that point.

He ran a hand over his slightly sweaty brow, as he rolled over to face his wife. Fred was half expecting Hermione to be sleeping peacefully next to him, but he was stunned when he found her sitting upright, rubbing her protruding stomach with a thoughtful expression. "Hermione?" he croaked, unable to shake the sleep from his voice. "What are you doing up still?"

"Can't sleep. I-Ow!" she gasped as she leaned forward, gripping her stomach slightly.

Fred sat up straight immediately. "What? What is it? What's wrong?"

Hermione let out a low hiss of pain before telling him, "just a really painful kick. He's been at it all night."

The worry lines in Fred's face smoothed out as he took a deep breath to slow down his racing heart. "You scared me for a moment," he muttered, placing a hand over his heart for emphasis. He stretched out his arm, and motioned Hermione to nestle closer towards him. Once she had leaned into his frame, Fred took over rubbing her stomach, feeling the baby inside kick furiously against his hand. "He's definitely up to no good," he agreed.

Hermione moaned again as she felt a powerful jolt from her midsection. "He's definitely your child, I think."

"Maybe another dose of your potion will help?" Fred suggested. "It normally knocks the two of you out." He felt Hermione stiffen next to him, and a concerning thought crossed Fred's mind, "you _did _take your potion tonight, right?"

Hermione bit her lip and cringed, "by 'take', do you mean 'pour down the sink'?"

"Hermione!"

Hermione buried her head in her hands. "I'm sorry! But I just wasn't comfortable with the side effects anymore."

"The side effects? You mean the unusual dreams?" Fred looked at her with wide eyes. "I thought they had stopped. You've been sleeping better than ever since you started taking the potion."

"They have stopped," she assured him. "But I don't want to give them any more reason to start up again. Just because they've stopped now, doesn't mean they won't come back. And the potion is just fuel for the fire, in my opinion."

Fred tugged her hands away from her face. "So you want to risk it? Hermione, you need your sleep. And if the potion helps-" He cut off when he realised the tears that had begun leaking from his wife's eyes. "Hermione?"

Hermione grabbed Fred's shirt and buried her head deep into his chest, hot tears soaking the fabric. Fred pulled her in closer, alarmed by her sudden burst of tears, and begun to mumbled incoherent nonsense into her bushy hair. Once the onset of tears had simmered down, Fred dared to ask, "Are they really that bad?"

She pushed her face out from the warmth of his chest and blinked at him, tears still clinging to her eyelashes. "You're the one who was always starting a fight about them."

"Hey! I didn't-" He broke off at the sight of Hermione's pointed look. "Shut up, you know what I mean. You're the one who was always denying it, when you know it's the truth."

Hermione rolled her eyes at her husband. He may be right, but she was too tired to argue with him. Not tonight. Not when there was a tiny human residing inside of her that was giving her so much grief.

"You know, you never told me what that last dream was about," he commented, rubbing his hand up and down her back. "Here's a crazy thought: it might help to talk about them."

Hermione tried to resist the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. "You never let things go, do you?"

He gave her a dazzling smug grin. "Not really."

Hermione let out a sigh of defeat before proceeding to tell her husband the gory details of her former dreams. She told Fred about the faceless monster that plagued her mind, the one that took their baby with the intent of killing it. She told him how Fred had always seem powerless to stop them, and how Hermione was always near the brink of death by the end of it. She spoke how Fred would scream at her that it was her fault, before turning on her and ending her life.

Fred's breathing was ragged, and his eyes were moist by the end of her telling. "I _kill _you?" Fred breathed.

Hermione hissed out in pain again, and rubbed her stomach as Fred had unconsciously stopped. There was silence between the two of them as they let the hideous news digest for a moment. Hermione broke the silence with a thought that had been bothering her for some time. "Do you suppose they could be some kind of prophecy?"

Fred gave her a bewildered look. "Prophecy?" he echoed. "I honestly hope you don't believe that."

"But they seemed so real, Fred. And they keep happening-"

"Used to happen," Fred corrected. "They've stopped now."

They sat in silence, mulling over the details of the dream. "Hermione?" Fred muttered quietly. Hermione looked at him, noticing how he was deep in concentration. "Is this why you asked me if I could read palms the other day?"

Hermione nodded. "You can read palms, though," she pointed out.

"Not well," Fred admitted. "It's a lot harder than it sounds."

There was a pregnant pause as Hermione watched the clogs in her husband's mind turn. Suddenly, Fred reached over and turned on the lamp on the bedside table. He then looked at Hermione for a moment, searching her face for something. "Give me your hand," he said.

Before she could even respond, Fred grabbed her left hand and flipped it over. "What are you doing?" Hermione asked timidly.

"Reading your palms."

She attempted to tug her hand away from him, but he kept a firm grip on it. "Fred-"

"Please," he begged quietly, as he began to examine the resisting hand. Fred bit his bottom lip in concentration as he traced the lines of Hermione's palm with his finger. He was muttering something underneath his breath, trying to remember all he knew about the subject at hand, literally. Hermione watched him with a frown, and fought the urge to pull her hand away.

"See this line?" He traced the deep line that started underneath her index finger and ran to edge of her hand. "That's your heart line… you're content with your love life." He looked up at her with a playful grin. "No need to thank me for that one."

Hermione gave him a look that was caught between a smirk and a scorn. "Don't know how I ever could with that big head of yours," she replied playfully. Her breathing hitched as Fred's finger continued to tickle her skin as he followed the connecting lines.

"But all these little lines? They suggest emotional trauma in your life," Fred quickly snuck a peek at his wife to see her reaction. He quickly pushed on by adding, "Well, that's a given. The war and everything…"

Hermione had to agree with him at that point. The cost of the war had left emotional scars on everyone, she couldn't put her entire future on the tiny lines extending from the palm of her hands.

"Your Head Line," he continued, running his finger down the deep, long, straight line that stretched across the palm. "This indicates a logical and direct way of thinking. The straighter the line, the more realistic the thinking, and the deeper the line, the better the memory." Hermione couldn't hide the smirk that graced her features as she noticed that the particular line was more prominent than all the other lines running across her hand.

Fred smiled, noticing her tension ease with each explanation of the lines. He went on to tell her that her palm spoke of great love, and great pain, both of which he could put down to their own relationship and the five years that was taken away from them.

"And this line, suggests you are strong, and that you aspire to do great things from an early age." He gave the hand he was holding a gentle squeeze. "I'd say this hand it is pretty accurate at describing you."

"And nothing to suggest an early death?"

Fred shook his head. "Nah, you're pretty safe."

Hermione exhaled deeply. "Really?"

He hummed in agreement and kissed her palm. "You've got nothing to worry about, see?"

He released her hand, and Hermione held it up for her own eyes to examine. She felt stupid for believing that all those lines that crisscrossed their way over the milky white skin; but she couldn't deny that she felt some comfort at her husband's words. Fred pushed her hand away from her gaze before leaning in and giving her a gentle kiss on her lips. "It's OK, I'm here now," he whispered against her lips. "Everything's going to be OK."

A moan escaped Hermione and she placed a hand on either side of his face. "Why are you so good to me?"

"Because I love you," he put simply. "And you're kind of carrying my kid and all, so that's an added bonus."

Hermione giggled at his words before yawning. "I'm so tired," she announced quietly.

"You should get some sleep."

Hermione shook her head and reached for his hand. "What does your palm say?" she implored, taking his large hand and ironing it out with her own.

Fred bit back a comment about her changing the subject. "It's biased to read your own palm," he told her, but made no attempt to stop her outlining the connecting lines on his palm. "You only want to see the good things, not the bad."

"There are so many lines," she noted. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

Fred chuckled. "Life has many paths, and many moments. I don't think it really matters how many lines you have."

"Teach me," she urged.

Fred raised an eyebrow at her. "I thought you hated this sort of thing."

"A girl can change her mind. I'm pretty sure last night demonstrated that," she stated smugly, her eyes sparkling with a playful mischief.

Fred's mouth twisted into a wry smile as the memories of last night flooded back to him. He relaxed his hand so that Hermione could take a full look at all the lines mapped out across his hand. He gently guided her through the maze of lines, explaining the difference between the Head, Love and Life lines, and how even the length of his fingers played a part in palm-reading. She giggled when he explained that his short fingers, which Hermione always had thought were long but he insisted were shorter than his brothers, indicated that he was not only creative but highly-sexed.

"It doesn't really mean that!" Hermione laughed.

"Alas, I'm afraid so, my love. You're just going to have to try extra hard to keep me satisfied."

Hermione laughed again and Fred smiled. She was clearly feeling much better, and that eased Fred's worrying mind. Her laugh lit up her face, and Fred couldn't resist but pulling her in for another loving kiss. Hermione was trying hard to suppress the laugh that had already begun deep inside, but failed miserably. "Stop that now," she said. At the sight of Fred's pout, she laughed again. "You haven't told me what this line means!"

Fred looked down at his own palm, and noticed she was pointing to the line that started at the base of his palm, and was broken in many parts, often going into different directions. "Oh, that's the Fate line."

Hermione looked back at her own palm. "I don't have one of those!"

"Not everyone does," he explained. "It doesn't actually tell your fate, just how much external forces play a part in shaping your destiny."

"Oh," Hermione frowned. "But yours is broken."

"It just means I'm prone to many changes in life, due to reasons that are out of my control. Things that come to mind would be Candice," he pulled a face as he mentioned his ex-wife. "Quitting school and… Oh dammit!" Fred cursed out loud.

"What?" Hermione blinked, not knowing what had happened to warrant such an outburst.

Fred's hand slipped out of her grasp and he quickly ran it through his red hair. "I forgot that I had to finish filling out those forms to send to our new supplier. We have to owl them first thing in the morning." The springs of the bed creaked as Fred got up and quickly grabbed a jacket that had been carelessly tossed over a chair.

"Where are you going?" Hermione queried, watching her husband make his way across the room.

"To get the papers," Fred clarified, pulling on the jacket. "I really need to send them tomorrow morning."

"Do you have to go now? It's late," Hermione said with a frown. There was a vague tinge of worry in her voice, and Fred's heart went out to his wife.

Fred gave her a soft smile, and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. "I'll be back soon, I promise." He gave her another kiss, this one being placed lovingly on her lips. He then moved to kiss the bump the concealed his child, but was stopped by the distinct shape of a heel being pushed against the stretch of skin.

Fred's lips twisted into a wry smile. "But before I go anywhere, there's one order of business that needs to be addressed." Fred left her side and disappeared down the hall, only to return moments later with a cup filled with a purple substance.

He brought the cup to her, and stared into her eyes. "Drink up. You both need to get some sleep now."

Hermione took the cup from his hands, and gave him a look of half annoyance. "You're really bossy this late at night," she told him cheekily before bringing the cup to her lips and letting the sweet potion run down her throat.

"Good girl," he praised, taking the cup from her again and giving her another gentle kiss on her lips. "Get some sleep, I'll be back soon," he informed her as her eyes began to droop.

"Mmm," Hermione hummed sleepily, as she settled down in the blankets. "Don't be too long."

Fred smiled as he made his way across the room to put away her potion. Fred paused as he shut the door, straining his ears to listen. He lingered long enough to hear the deep breathings of Hermione entering a peaceful slumber.

**X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X—X**

"Where on earth did I put them?" Fred mumbled to himself as he searched the desk for the missing documents. His hands fumbled through parchments that scattered the desk. He made the same mental note and silent vow he always did when he found himself in this situation, that he would spend the whole next day cleaning out and organizing the office. Of course, this promise was made only half-hearted as he had no real intention of spending a whole day organising files.

He heard loud, heavy footsteps walk back and forth upstairs, and Fred found the sound very distracting. He pushed the curious thought that poked at the back of his mind to what his twin was doing up so late at night, as he really wanted to stay focused on the task at hand. Without these documents, they couldn't possibly get their hands on enough dried Billywig stings for the new prank rival to Fizzing Whizbees that they were working on. And given that the supplier had to get the ingredient from Australia, it was absolutely necessary to finish the paperwork by tomorrow. If only he knew where he put them.

Fred sighed, as his mind drifted away briefly to mull over Hermione's dreams. Whilst long gone, the nightmares had left an emotional and mental scar on both him and Hermione. Although he could bask in the last peaceful couple of weeks that had blessed them, knowing what had once been there sincerely bothered him.

_Ignorance is bliss_, Fred decided. He had pushed and pushed to find out what was going on in her subconscious, and now that he knew, he wasn't sure if he was perfectly alright with it. He wanted to help, but he had no idea how to approach the situation any more. The dreams weren't occurring, but their everlasting effect still had a hold on Hermione, and it was buried deep within her mind, somewhere he couldn't venture.

_Crash!_

The loud noise from above broke Fred from his musings. Fred's turned his head to look at the ceiling above him. What on earth was that? He quickly shook the idea of investigating and Hermione's dreams out of his mind, as he continued his hunt for the papers. Mentally smacking himself, he uncovered the missing documents underneath the lamp that sat on top of the mountain of papers piled on the desk.

Just as he was trying to sneak out the papers wedged underneath the lamp, another stumble from the loft above distracted him long enough to knock the lamp off the pile completely, smashing it to pieces.

"Damn," he muttered. He took out his wand and performed a quick "_Reparo"_, sending the broken fragments of the lamp to fuse together before leaping back onto the desk. He heard the footsteps above him stall for a moment before they evolved into a quick bolt down the stairs. Fred braced himself for what was sure to come.

George came bursting into the room, brandishing his wand in a wild manner. "Who are you and what do you want?!" he demanded, before tripping over his own feet and falling on his face.

Fred held out his hands to show he meant no harm. "It's just me, George," Fred replied. "I forgot to bring home the... are you drunk?"

"I've had a few drinks, yes," George stated, getting up from the floor.

Fred could smell his twin's alcoholic breath from where he stood. "You've had a whole brewery from the smell of it," he said, wrinkling his nose. "You OK?"

"Never better!" George told him, staggering to stay on his feet. "I have never felt more alive!"

_He's guilty of something_, Fred told himself. "Bloody hell, George," Fred said, shaking his head. "What on earth did you do?"

"What did I_ do_? It's more like what I didn't do! _I _didn't cast the damn thing, so now it's all my fault, apparently!"

Fred walked over to his other half and grabbed him by his shirt, holding his breath as he spoke. "George, what the hell have you done?" To his surprise, George broke down in a flood of tears, burying his head in Fred's shirt, which was still damp from Hermione's crying. Fred felt a sense of confusion wash over him and asked himself why people were always crying when he confronted them tonight. First Hermione, now George, Fred felt like he was putting out fires all of Britain.

"George, come sit down. Tell me what's happened," Fred said, guiding his brother to a nearby chair.

The walk to the chair was harder than it seemed. George seemed to stagger around, knocking various objects onto the floor before Fred was able to get him to sit in the chair. Once seated, Fred asked again, "what's happened, George?"

George took a shuddering breath and replied in a quiet voice, "Katie's pregnant"

Fred looked at his brother incredulously, "what?"

"She's pregnant," George repeated alongside a hiccup.

Fred blinked. "Is that why you've been drinking?" he asked. George nodded his head slowly in response. "Merlin, George. What's wrong with having a baby? It's going to be the greatest thing."

"For you maybe," George answered. "I can't be a father."

Fred remembered his own feelings with Candice when she first told him she was pregnant, and sympathized with his twin, "of course you can." He clasped a hand on George's shoulder. "I know the idea is scary now but you'll learn to love it."

Fred watched as George struggled to fight sleep and stay with the conversation. "No," George shook his head. "I can't be a father."

"How's Katie taking this?" Fred dared to ask.

Just mentioning her name, George looked as if he was about to start crying again. "She says it's all my fault. I'm the one to blame, you see! She forgets that it takes two to… do that dancing thing."

Fred exhaled a breath, "You're drunk. You're not thinking straight. Come on, let's get you upstairs". Fred pulled his twin's arm in an attempt to get him standing. George swayed on his feet and Fred had to get his arm around his own shoulders so that he could haul him up the stairs. He debated under his copy's weight, whether or not he should just apparate upstairs but the motion would probably cause his brother to vomit on him.

The two stumbled their way up the stairs and into the loft above the store. George's conversation was even more disjointed as he continued to hiccup nonsense the whole way, his breath reeking of firewhisky. "You are _so _lucky you're not me," he told Fred as the younger dumped him on the couch. "What went wrong? Everything was great. Then BAM! Within another year, I'll be the father of two."

"Two?" Fred questioned. "Is Katie having twins?"

George's eyes widened, "Is she? Did she tell you that? Merlin… father of _three._"

"What? Three? What on earth are you on about?"

George's eyes started to droop, "You know what? It doesn't even matter because I bet Katie's aren't even mine. Just like Hermione's isn't yours."

Fred felt the air be taken out of him at his twin's words. It took a minute to digest and it took another minute before he found his voice, "what did you say?"

But his only reply was a snore.

* * *

**A/N: **_I'm sneaky like that. _

_I think that the biggest clue to what George was rambling on about was in those last few lines. If you haven't spotted it already, re_re_ad and then think. It's pretty ob_vi_ous what my int_e_ntion _w_as. _

_Also know this, I don't actually know how to read palms. I just found that little thing fun to write about, so I kept with it. _

_Now what shall happen next? I actually know! HAHA! Find out next time. Just review because that always gets me motivated to update the next one._

GO ON! **REVIEW**

_Lots of Love,_

_Creative Touch _


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